


Unwanted

by Reignfinite



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Character Death, Depression, Gen, Hearing Voices, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1551635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reignfinite/pseuds/Reignfinite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alois understood that he was not wanted. He knew he was just a substitute that barely even passed their standards. He wanted to just end it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwanted

_Hiss…_

Light blue eyes lazily stared at the grand chandelier that hung directly above his body. Soft pale lips were slightly apart, ghosts of long, relaxed breaths passing through in and out, in and out. The limbs and the body of the blond rested languidly on the polished marble floor of the ball room.

Yes, Alois Trancy was on the floor of the large, empty ball room of his mansion. Yes, he did not care about getting a cold from laying on the stone floor in only his loose, satin nightwear because he did what he wanted and nobody had a say about it, not unless he could shut them up.

And yes, he was alone. All alone in the expanse of his mansion, of his land with the rain pouring down heavily on it outside.

Why?

Well, what a curious thing to ask. Why else but because he simply was left alone… by his servants, by his butler and the demon who made the contract with him.

_Hiss…_

The three demons who shared the same face were not there for the demon of the earl he so hated at the moment, and probably till forever, had sliced them all to pieces.

_Hiss…_

The maidservant whom he had always loved to hurt yet had never complained or showed any emotion of defiance against him was not there for she had gone out and Alois did not know when or if she would ever return.

_Hiss…_

And his golden-eyed butler, whom he thought would be most loyal, had gone out to the Phantomhive mansion to most likely cause trouble there and try to attain what is not his.

What is it he wants, you ask?

Who else but Ciel Phantomhive! _Of course._

Nobody else’s would be more perfect, more ‘delicious’ than his soul. And so it was understood that even Alois’ most trusted, his _beloved_ Claude Faustus would look at the Phantomhive brat instead.

And where did that leave Alois?

Why, _fucking alone_ , of course. What else?! Alone in his mansion. Alone in his whole estate. Alone in his own little world… And what a terrifying notion that was. To top it off, the sounds of a heavy rain filled his ears and nothing but darkness could be seen beyond the windows of his mansion.

_Hiss…_

There is no one to turn to and no one to cry to. He had no one who would look at him, much less talk to him.

There is only the dark that surrounded him, with which he is afraid of still, and there is only silence in the mansion.

Alois wanted to scream. He wanted to rip his tongue out and destroy that seal that bound him to Claude. He wanted to cry and just melt into his tears and become nothing but dust. He wanted to end it all.

_Hiss…_

However Alois just stayed there, seemingly frozen. His breathing was the only thing that made him look alive. Even his eyes had just focused on one spot, looking into a faraway scenario where he would play with Luka and imagine that he could annihilate all the people in their little world.

And as the hours passed by and the night only grew deeper and the rain harder, Alois had reflected on many thoughts and not once did sleep attempt to overtake his still form that was starting to grow cold.

_Hiss…_

Some of the things that passed his mind were the different ways of possibly inflicting torture to Ciel and making the two foolish, greedy demons wince at his disturbing ways, memories of his childhood, memories of inflicting Hannah all that pain that she never truly deserved, short flashbacks of the bastard that housed him as a sex slave, and counting the many different ways he could end his life and make the contract void of any benefit and of an array of disadvantages for Claude. There was none that he could come up with for the last one.

With the depression and the negativity already consuming his mind, Alois could only lay there and just keep thinking of all the bad things that has happened to him.

He counted Luka’s death as the worst, Claude’s betrayal as the second worst, and his incompetence to be of any importance or priority to his demons to be the third. Everything else followed without any need to be organized. They were all the same anyway—tragic, sad and depressing.

_Hiss…_

After that, Alois started to hear voices in his head, degrading him, humiliating him, corrupting him. All whispered nothing but the same baritone of suicide. All droned out any and all rational thoughts from him, if any were ever there from the start of it all.

_You’re nothing. You are just an eye sore to all of them._

_Nobody has truly ever wanted you. You barely even pass their standards. For an earl and for a noble, you truly are pathetic._

_You were already bad. Having the Phantomhive come around made you even worse in Claude’s eyes._

_Claude only puts up with you in order to attain your pitiful soul. And now that he’s found something better, what other reason does he have to stay?_

_You were nothing but a temporary delicacy to fill that hunger within Claude. Now, he’s found one to be the permanent filling, what else would he need you for?_

_Luka’s death was your fault. His death was your fault. If it weren’t for your selfish wish, he would not have died._

_You’re born to suffer. Just accept it, Alois. You were born to suffer… and ultimately, die by your own hand one day._

_Hiss…_

Alois sighed as he felt the cold seeping in from the marble. He had a ghost of a smile on his face as he took to heart the last few words of that voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the empty, spacious room. He did not know who or what he was talking to. He did not know why his eyes were filling up with tears either. But he did know that he just wanted it all to end.

_Death will come to all and it is not important how you die. Nobleman or street rat. Contented or greedy. Young or aged. Significant or worthless. All are the same._ _Keep death at bay, if you want, for as long as you can, but you can never escape it. You can run, run for days or decades, run till you’re crippled and run till you’re blind. But death will always be there to chase you down, till you are nothing but a bag of bones, coils of old, wrinkling skin folding over another, ears and eyes demoted to nothing but accessories to make you look like the shadow of your past. So long as you are mortal, death is inevitable._

Alois did not understand that voice. He kept an ear out to listen to it as it talked a little more while he stood up and trudged lightly and quietly out of the ball room.

_Alois, whether you die from a slit on the throat or from a fall from a balcony, it would not matter. The means of your death will not be important. However, it may be best if you did try a less painful way, don’t you think? Or at least show your useless demon servants that you’re still worthy of a clean, splendid death._

“Pain…” Alois mumbled as his eyes start to darken and become dull. “Pain is good.”

_Pain is good, yes. But dying painlessly is better. You don’t have to endure it if you don’t want to._

“But I do. I want to feel pain… physical pain. It would be better to feel physical pain in death than to feel the emotional kind. I would rather feel the wounds on my body than those in my heart…”

_As you wish._

_Hiss…_

The voice was quiet then. And Alois had felt nothing but sorrow until Claude’s voice came back to mind. His feet stopped and his head hung at the memory.

**“I am your loyal servant. Even if you do not try to attract my attention, I want to greedily devour you to the very end.”**

“Lies,” Alois mumbled with nothing but vehemence growing in his voice, even in his breath as he started to hyperventilate. “Liar…”

_Hiss…_

Rage slowly filled him up as the blond changed his course and went towards the kitchen. He let his eyes travel the dim room, shadows of the rain playing on his skin as the shadows of leaves from the sun would in those old, happier but false golden days with his butler. His eyes searched for the knife drawer. Never truly having set foot in the room before with this reason in mind, Alois opened every drawer to search for what he wanted, ignoring the irate pain in his throat and lungs as he tried to calm his breathing.

_Hiss…_

He found cutting knives. He shrugged, deciding they were good enough. But the voices came back and stopped him, now whispering as one voiceless entity.

_Knives? Cutting knives, nonetheless! What are you, bread?! A piece of meat!? Do you truly see yourself as nothing more than your favorite traitor of a demon servant sees—a dish to be had, to be thrown away so easily when he has decided he doesn’t like it?!_

Alois stopped. “What then?” he asked lifelessly, like a zombie following the voice of the worms inside its head.

_Think about it. A noble death proves to them they were wrong to leave you, over that wretched mess of a Phantomhive. The boy will die a death like Luka’s—unnoticed, unimportant. While you, on the other hand, you have the chance to choose how you want to die! Nobly, grandly!_

_Hiss…_

“Poison…” Alois mumbled as his feet started shuffling to the nearest cleaning closet. Poison had always been the death of the royals, of the passionate, of the loved. He found it ironic that a mortal like him would want a death as such—when he was never truly loved, when he never truly became passionate about something because everything was presented to him with a flick of the hand, when he never truly was an earl because he took the position from an old man who did nothing to him but treat him as a doll to toy and play with.

_Hiss…_

_Poison, yes! That is the best choice!_

_Hiss…_

As the voices multiplied into their individual identities to cheer for him, Alois pulled out the laudanum. He brought it to his bedroom along with a wineglass. He poured it into his glass before it could reach the rim. Ignoring the smell of the poison and the voices that told him how much this was worth it, Alois sat on the bed and pulled the covers over his feet.

_Hiss…_

Just another tiring day and I’m only going to sleep, he told himself as he took the glass and held it up. He closed his eyes and ignored the air of acidity that rose from the surface of the liquid. The voices were excitedly, anxiously telling him to go on, screaming into his ears to just do it before it was too late.

He held it up to his lips and took a gulp. And then another. And another.

_H—_

And then everything was suddenly silent.

Was that a thump he heard that caused the voices to stop?

Alois opened his eyes and found sharp golden eyes piercing into his. He fell back—no, he was supposed to but a gloved hand supported his back and his nape as the demon at his side stared into his dull blues with intense electric yellows.

His wineglass was supposed to fall to the pristine sheets, supposed to spill the poison he so dramatically wished would emphasize his loneliness, his hatred of the world. It didn’t. One of the gloved hands somehow took it as it fell and placed it on the bedside table with unnoticeable speed and precision. Not a drop from what remained in the glass was wasted.

_Too late! He has come!_

The voices screamed and screeched as if they were in pain. Then they slowly drifted away like their entities were disappearing or leaving the room in such haste and panic that they disappeared almost immediately.

It had finally gone… the hissing.

Alois could feel the poison taking effect. His arms were becoming itchy. His lungs were releasing too much air all of a sudden. His mouth was drying up. His throat was burning. His body was suddenly heavy as lead.

Were the tears part of it? They were blurring his vision. Damn them.

Now he couldn’t see what Claude has on his face.

Delight? Shock? Confusion? Relief?

…regret?

Alois could never tell. His vision was darkening and his pupils were dilating and contracting too fast.

But he found out one thing today.

It was worth it knowing Claude didn’t, _wouldn’t_ get either of the souls he wanted. Not Alois’s. And surely, that Michaelis demon wouldn’t give Phantomhive’s away without a fight.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, at least not when he was still so desperately clinging onto his butler, but Alois knew for one that Claude could never defeat the other demon. He was far too weak. And his resolve was not as solid.

That’s the reason why he wasn’t going to get any of their souls.

And that was enough to bring a sad, contented smile onto Alois’s face as he slipped into nothingness.

Problem solved.

Wish granted.

The End.


End file.
